The Single Life Part II

For the most part, women say they don't want to be in a relationship because they haven't met that "special one," or "Mr. Right." So usually women are just blowing smoke or giving excuses for being single. However, this week has taught me something. The reality is I don't want to be with anyone on the serious tip. I have a friend who is in town. He and I have been intimate in the past, but I honestly don't want to be alone with him. I had so much anxiety when he asked me when could he see me. I knew at that point I am in tune with being alone. I can't be in a relationship right now. Someone once said to thy ownself be true. I agree with that 100%. One thing going to California taught me was that I shouldn't try to force something that doesn't fit. I tried that with once and it didn't work, and I don't plan on trying it again.

The Single Life

This weekend I did absolutely nothing but sleep. Nothing different from any other weekend of mine. As I was lying in my bed under the covers, I realize that I don't want to be bothered with the outside world. But what I also realized is that I don't want to share my space with anyone. I like my quiet time. I like the solitude that I have. I invite being alone. And most importantly, I don't want to be in a relationship with anyone. During this past week, I saw how some men are controlling in a relationship. I saw how easy it is losing your identity. I saw how much responsibility comes along with being in a relationship. Not to mention the thought of kids. That scares the hell out of me. Now the flip side to all of this leaves me with the lingering question. That question is what am I so afraid of. Why am I so against relationships, marriage, family? Why am I so selfish to the point that all I want to do is spend my money on me and not share it with anyone? Why do wake up every morning hoping not to meet anyone that would spark some form of interest? I think the answer stems from my childhood. For as long as I can remember, all my parents have done is argue. Argue over senseless shit, and argue of valid shit. I have never seen any compromise, but I have seen possible infidelity on both parts. I have seen the pain of being in poverty. I have seen the embarrassment of not being able to adequately provide for a family. And I am all too familiar with feeling like a burden because my parents had to provide clothing, food and shelter for me. I felt like my parents would have been able to do more with and for each other if I were never in the picture. I am scared that if I ever got married I would have the same senseless arguments, and whatever child I have would be depressed just like I was as a child. When I think about all of that, it just doesn't seem worth it.

A Few Dumb Men

I am not one to pay attention to too many things or people for that matter. The older I get, the more of a loner I seem to become. Not to mention since my best friend told me I was high maintenance, I really feel like I am better off by myself. If you didn't read the post regarding high maintenance women, its the February 9th post that I just posted today. But back to this blog. In my line of business I meet a lot of police officers. There have only been one or two to catch my eye over a span of five years, and even they didn't keep my attention span. I will admit there was one that I had sex with and I haven't called him since, but I can't help it if I lost interest in him after sex. In recent weeks, there has been another cop whom I found attractive, but I wasn't interested enough to find out more about him. One night he called to see if I needed him in court the following day. As Iwas talking to him, I heard a newborn baby crying in the background. I asked if it was his baby and he said yes. Because the baby was only four months, I figured it safe to assume that a woman was in the picture. With that in mind, I certainly didn't give him any additional thought. However, fatherhood didn't stop him from placing another call to me asking me if my phone call to him (weeks ago) was personal or business. The phone call was business and it was a return call to him regarding a case. I told him the nature of the call and I inquired into why he was asking. He told me he found me attractive. However, I had to be honest and tell him I figured he was at least involved with someone considering he has a four month old baby. He told me that he is married, BUT has extra-marital affairs. That was a huge turnoff to me. That conversation inspired this blog. Here is a list of things men do that turns me off.

1. I admire the honesty of a man who tells me upfront that he is married. What I hate is when he calls me everyday and have the audacity to ask me why I don't call him back or call him at all. Hey jackass.....you're married!!! I don't owe you no fucking explanation as to why I don't return your calls or call you at all.

2. I hate it when a man constantly call me knowing I am sick, and all he wants to do is talk about himself. Hey jackass....I am sick!!!! That's why I'm not answering the fucking phone. Quit calling me.

3. I hate it when a man constantly talk about how good they are when it comes to sex and how often he has to have sex. Hey jackass....if you have to tell a woman about how good you are in bed, that usually means you suck at sex!!!! Shut the fuck up.

4. I hate it when a man says the only thing a white woman can do for him is point him in the direction of a sister. Hey jackass....my last name ain't X or Shabazz. There's nothing wrong with interracial dating. Trust me when I say I look past color when it comes to men.

5. I hate it when a man pops up in court to talk to me because I didn't answer my phone, then sit around and wait until I am finish with court. Hey jackass....I am at work doing what I get paid to do. If I wanted to talk to you, then I would answer the phone when you call or call you back once I have realized that I have missed your call. Leave me the fuck alone.

If any one wants to add to the list of turnoffs, then feel free to amend. This is not the list in its entirety, but it certainly is a start....

Making It Through

Needless to say, I kept myself occupied yesterday. The only time I thought about what happened on February 13, 2005 was when I stopped work for a few seconds to figure out what to do next to keep me busy. The good news is I didn't cry at all. The bad news is I haven't slept at all this week, and I can't remember the last time I actually fell asleep. I am beginning to think my body is deliberately fighting sleep. My mind can't stop thinking; therefore, I can't relax. It's such a struggle to go to sleep such that I find myself trying to force myself to sleep. Long gone are the days that sleep came naturally. In addition to three years passing, I would like to think that I am making affirmative steps towards healing. The main objective is to stop blaming myself. In the back of my mind I keep thinking I could have avoided all of this by not answering my phone when he called. I have been kicking myself for that every single day. I feel like I compromised so much just by answering the damn phone. I guess that will be one of my major regrets until the day I die.

Valentine's Day wasn't so bad. This year, my valentine was my nephew. I bought so much candy for him all he could say was wow. I also bought candy for four of my co-workers, my best friend, and her daughters. It actually felt good giving someone candy for Valentine's Day. I can honestly say this was the first time I ever bought candy for someone on Valentine's Day. It didn't bother me at all that I didn't get anything for the holiday. I certainly wasn't expecting anything considering I am a single woman. I don't think I have any admirer's, so I felt good about not getting anything. To receive something would have been stressful for me because I am not interested in anyone, and I don't want anyone to be interested in me. Having said that, I realize I am so opposite many other women who would love to get candy and roses just for show. Maybe I am a geek in disquise and just don't know it yet....

What Makes A Woman "High Maintenance"

For the last week or so, I have been thinking about what makes a man call a woman high maintenance. My best friend and I were having a conversation over dinner, and she told me that she thinks I am high maintenance. I was shocked when she said it to me, but it made me think about what high maintenance really means. I did my research and found a definition I think defines what a high mainenance woman is to most men. A high maintenance woman is broadly defined as women who need many things (money, material goods, affection) to be happy. These women love dressing up whenever possible, and are obsessed with all aspects of their personal appearance and grooming in general. This almost obsessive attention to detail usually extends beyond their person, to their homes or apartments, their pets, and yes, even their men. In addition, they tend to be perfectionists, overachievers, self-centered, and a bit vain.

Quite frankly, I see nothing wrong with that definition because that is what most men look for in a woman. Most men I know love it when a woman dresses in the latest fashion. Be it business or casual/club scene attire. Men would prefer a woman who spends time grooming herself; i.e. hairstyle, manicure, pedicure, no excessive hair anywhere except on her head, fragrance, etc. Men certainly want a woman who keeps her apartment/house clean, and every man loves it when a woman spends money on them. So why is it that a man has a problem dating what he claims to be a high manitenance woman when that's the very woman he chooses or dreams about? The answer is men are so damn cheap that they don't want to spend money on anyone but themselves. Now I don't think I am high maintenance because I buy the things I want, nor do I wait around for someone to get it for me. It would be different if I expected a man to get the material things that I want, but I don't. I honestly think if I were in a relationship I still would spend my money on me because that's the reason why I work. I went to law school so that I could pamper myself whenever I see fit.

So to all the men who have a problem with so called high maintenance women I say this...... Get a better paying job bi-otch!!!!! Get rich bitch!!!!!!! LMAO!!!

An Enemy Of Mine

I was in my office on Wednesday and I decided to rearrange the furniture in my office. Dust flew everywhere. I began to feel like all of the dust settled in my lungs. As soon as I walked inside of my apartment, my body started aching all over. It was difficult to sleep because no matter how I positioned myself, it hurt to lay down. I managed to go to court on Thursday, but I stayed home today. Unfortunately I couldn't get an appointment with my doctor to get a prescription for antibiotics. The earliest is Monday. So I have to suffer in silence at home until I can get some medication. I am hoping it will subside over the weekend, but even if it does it will resurface if I don't take the antibiotics. As it stands, for the past two days I have been feeling miserable. I honestly thought taking nyquil along with lunesta would really knock me out for at least eight hours. But at best, I only slept two hours. After two hours of sleep, I'd wake up and try to make myself fall asleep again. Right now the only things hurting on me are my eyes, head, ears, neck, and upper back. Thats a little better than my entie body hurting.

What Does It Mean To Be Free

Its amazing how the opinion of another person can mentally bind you. I spoke with my mother earlier tonight and the conversation ended sour. My temper is relatively short these days; therefore, I have a tendency to say whats on my mind. But I left that conversation realizing that I am not comfortable with me based upon what she thinks of me. Its a shame that at 34 years old, I am concerned about what the next person thinks of me and how they think I should look. As a result of this level of discomfort, I realized that I am not free. I see myself as an unattractive, overweight person who is destined to be single until I look a certain way. Why do I think this way? Because that is what my mother keeps telling me. Its gotten to the point that she wants to dictate what I wear when I leave my home. Keep in mind that I don't even live with my mother nor does she see me everyday. When she does see me I am wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts; something comfortable that doesn't remind me of work. Therefore, she thinks I don't look decent when I leave my house, and I should dress better than I do just in case I "meet somebody to marry." According to my mother, no man will want me if I look shabby. Maybe that's true to an extent. But do I really want to be with a man that wants me to look like the next top model everyday including the times I am just lounging around. Now here's the funny part. If I tell my mother how much money I spend monthly in Brooks Brothers for clothes she would tell me I spend too much money. Go figure.....

Ironically, yesterday I purchased and read a book titled The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. The book has only 96 pages, so I read it within three hours. Its a very interesting read so I recommend it. A passage from the book reads:
And an orator said, speak to us of freedom. And he (the prophet) answered....You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief, but rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound.

That passage, among others in this book, made me think. All of the things that my mother says to me, or what other people may think, or even what I think weighs heavlily on me. But its only when I don't succumb to it, and still live happily, or look at the many other factors that make me realize that I am a blessed individual; thats what will make me free. Its time for me to change my way of thinking and be free....

Very Little To Talk About

For the past month, I have intentionally neglected to write on my blog. I have been somewhat to myself, and really didn't want to expose much about my thoughts. But I think I am back in full swing now. It's the mardi gras season here in the city, and parades and people are everywhere in the city once again. Rain has been an enemy of the season thus far, but all that means is more parades on another night. I haven't been to any of the parades of course. I am not big on crowds. Not to mention when you've lived in New Orleans for thirty-four years mardi gras is just like Christmas to me. Only day of true significance to me is my birthday, and that is mainly because I think being a saggitarius is the best zodiac sign ever. Other than that, work is work. I am still trying to make my exit mark. Its taking a little longer than what I expected, but I have been having fun in the office. One of my former co-workers came back to the office. I am certainly glad to see her. She and I have a lot of fun together. Today, she and I along with several other co-workers ate lunch at Gordon-Bierch. They had beers with their lunch. I had lemonade and was laughed at. Now they all know I don't drink beer, but for some reason they expected me to have some type of alcohol with my lunch. Its not odd for attorney's to drink at lunch, but I didn't see the need to today. Not to mention, I really didn't feel much like drinking. That's a big step for me. I never pass on alcohol at anytime of the day. But today was different for some reason.

Aside from all of that, I have a day of infamy approaching. I have had dreams every night about the same person that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. I am trying not to think about this person, but it bothers me when I wake up with my clothes and bed sheets wet from sweating profusely. I will explain later what my dreams have entailed and other factors surrounding my mental state. I just don't feel like discussing it right now.